


We the Doomed

by SugarGlaze



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Action & Romance, F/M, Friendship/Love, Minor Character Death, Possession, Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:47:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23783377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugarGlaze/pseuds/SugarGlaze
Summary: Strange things were happening to Clara, but when were they not. For as long as she could remember, devils flocked to her. Scared and on her own, she has no idea why or what they want her for, only that they won't stop until she is theirs.Her sudden run in with the Demon Hunter answers certain questions about herself that she wishes never came to light.
Relationships: Dante (Devil May Cry)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 6





	1. The Queen

What had she been thinking? It was a terrible idea to venture out after dark. There was a murderer out on the loose. So many people had already been killed in the past few weeks. 

  
The governor – a round gentleman with deep set eyes – issued a city-wide restriction to keep the residents of Red Grave safe. Obviously, few regarded his warning. The people who came out only during the night continued to do so, and the murders did as well. The media thoughtlessly reported the crimes as animal attacks; feral dogs from the mountains. Few believed this to be true – Clara did not. She knew the killer was a demon.

  
Doctor Lambert was one of the few who opposed her. If the news told him that the world was going to end within the year, he’d buy a safehouse and live the rest of his days underground. Clara thought his license was fake; no person so credulous deserved to be a therapist – she had never even heard of the college he graduated from. But the court demanded she pay him a visit twice a week, so she had no choice but to listen. It was that, or the hospital again. Not like she cared; locked up Clara was safe. Lambert at least agreed with her on that, albeit not for the same reasons. He believed that she was a hazard to herself; a schizophrenic like her mother.

  
_Demons do not exist,_ he reminded her the last time she went to see him. It was her idea to prove him right; prove that she belonged locked up. _It’s all in your mind._

  
Clara snorted in amusement. _Fat chance, doc. I see them; not all the time, but they are very much real._ She hoped that he was right.

  
The cocktail of pills he prescribed her – second generation antipsychotics – rested at the bottom of her faux leather purse. Clara left the bag on her cot so that she wouldn’t be lured to take them and ventured out passed curfew; a decision she was gradually coming to regret as the night went on.

  
_It’s so damn cold._ Clara hugged the jacket closer to her body. It was mid-February. She was freezing and terrified, but kept moving forward like her life depended on it. 

  
In an unfortunate way, it sort of did. 

  
The shelter Clara resided in was locked up for the night; it was far too late to return. She honestly didn’t know where she was going. She just kept moving. But surely, she thought, she’d get somewhere before dawn.

  
Nothing so far was amiss. The fearful brunette heard no voices whispering in her ear; no mischievous shadows darting in and out of her field of vision. She was relieved, but at the same time saddened that Doctor Lambert was right; she was sick like her mother. A short chuckle tore from her throat, sending a cloud of frozen air into her face. _Look on the bright side, my girl. At least demons aren’t going to eat you._

  
Clara hid her nose beneath the collar of her jacket and shivered – the wool faintly smelled of potato soup. Her stomach ached in hunger. _Damn I’m an idiot. Nothing is clear––_

  
A church bell suddenly resonated near her. She took a deep breath and glared at the enormous building. It looked as if it had seen better days – the windows were boarded up – adorned with old but stunning gothic figurines, which sat and peered down on her. Frankly they scared her, made her feel like she was being watched. Clara passed beneath them with her eyes aimed at the ground.

  
Until a noise startled her; the sound of wings fluttering through the air.

  
Clara felt her legs tense up and stop moving. _Birds don’t fly at night, do they?_ The bell must have startled a bat; a bat in the belfry. She chuckled at this, but it was short lived as the wings flapped again. Daring herself to look, she glanced at the church again and breathed a sigh of relief. There were no bats ready to swoop down on top of her; no statues watching.

  
Chills ran down her spine. _No statues?_ Her eyes squinted in the dark – maybe she was mistaken; maybe she didn’t actually see them before. No, that didn’t seem right. Ignoring the nagging feeling in her gut, Clara turned her back to the church and continued on.

  
It wasn’t too far now; the residential area was five minutes east from where she currently was. Her tired legs moved a bit faster than before.

  
But then, so did the sound of wings.

  
_What in the hell is––_

  
Clara dared a glance behind her, and what she saw brought tears to her scared eyes.

  
What had she been thinking? It was a terrible idea to venture out after dark. She was doomed. 


	2. The Knight

It was getting closer; she could hear its wings beating quickly above her, but stop she did not. Clara ran for her life.

  
_Where do I go? What do I do?_

  
She should have seen someone by now. It had been longer than five minutes; her heart was pounding against her chest; lungs irritated by the icy air. Her entire body hurt, but she resolved to keep running until her legs could no longer bare the intense burn.

  
Unfortunately for her, there was a ravenous devil behind her that said otherwise. 

  
It shot down like a bullet and snatched the wool jacket around her shoulders. Clara let out a scream of fright, twisting and tearing at its cold and clammy skin. Her feet lifted up and off the ground, but she managed to free herself from the jacket it seized and crashed back down onto the pavement below; her ankle snapped to the side and tossed her off her feet in a tired heap.

  
“Leave me alone … leave me alone.” 

  
She didn’t understand. Never had they touched her before; whispers and fleeting glances, but never this. She pushed herself off the ground and stumbled forward. Where devils this evil? Did they play with their food before eating it? Clara didn’t want to wait around and find out. She limped down the first narrow alley that she saw and dared a glance over her shoulder to see if the winged beast was still following her. It wasn’t in sight, but she knew it was still nearby; she could hear its cries of despair.

  
Undenounced to her, someone rounded the corner. Clara knocked right into them and screamed out in fear. It honestly felt like she hit the alley wall, but was surprised to see the something she hit was instead a person; a very tall and stout man. Her wide eyes filled with tears – relief maybe.

  
“What a catch,” he said with a smile. “And she told me I wouldn’t find any action tonight.”

  
Clara was unsure what he meant, but she frankly didn’t care. She lunged forward and did her best to wrap her arms around him. Something cold and sharp attached to his back stabbed her bare arm.

  
“There’s something chasing me. Please … help.” She sobbed hysterically into his chest. Her stiff fingers clung like talons to the leather of his trench coat.

  
He allowed her to do so; she was a mess. Her long hair was windswept; black as the night. Her skin felt icy – marred with filth and minor scratches. The faint scent of something familiar and unearthly radiated from her.

  
_Jackpot._

  
But where was it? He frowned. Maybe it ran away; most did when they caught his scent.

  
“Calm down. We need to move into a wider space,” he calmly directed.

  
Clara shook her head in agreement. She didn’t quite understand why, but any help was better than none. Letting him lead her in the direction from which he came, she used his arm to keep herself from putting too much pressure on her ankle.

  
In the open space of the next alley, he came to an abrupt stop. Clara glanced over at him and puckered her brow; he looked amused by something. What exactly was going through his mind? She opened her mouth to see if he was okay, but before she could, the familiar beating of wings interrupted her.

  
“That’s it – the devil. Can’t you hear it?” Her nails scratched at his leather coat, struggling to pull him along. “We can’t stay here.”

  
He could hear it. Reaching into his coat, he wrapped his fingers around the butt of his long-ranged pistol. The devil was getting closer, but not yet where he wanted it to be. Glancing at her, a terrible idea crossed his mind. He shrugged her off his arm and took a long step back, aiming the gun at her.

  
Clara was in shock. The hell was going on? She looked to him for a sign; anything to explain why he was pointing a gun at her, but she got nothing in return. Was she mistaken? Her judge of character had always been terrible. 

  
The very air around her became thick. Her body felt like a weight had been tied around it. Clara had no idea how to fathom the situation she was in; of course, she didn’t have to, not once the devil let out a hiss of annoyance; its foul breath hit the back of her neck.

  
“Dante,” it shrieked. 

  
He eased his finger on the trigger and smiled. “Gotcha!”

  
The gun exploded with a thunderous bang. Clara winced and fell to her knees; sparks of light showered her, leaping across her skin before hissing out. The devil screamed, but another well placed shot took it out; its large body slumped into a wet heap of blood next to her.

  
“That was a bit anticlimactic.” Dante frowned. He put Ebony back into its holster and scanned the blackened sky. Were there not usually more of them? Dante lifted his shoulders with a huff. A quiet sob from the woman distracted him for a moment; tears poured down her face.

  
_Normal reaction_ , he thought. She was just attacked by monsters that were thought to not exist. Most people he saved were a blathering mess right about now; her reaction he didn’t mind.

  
“Hey, so … what just happened wasn’t in your head. That thing was a devil; it was real.” He wasn’t sure how to explain it to her. 

  
Clara wiped her eyes. “I know what it was; I only wish it had been a hallucination.”

  
“That makes the job a bit easier,” Dante laughed. He moved closer and leaned down in front of her. She was shivering, but he assumed it was because of the cold. Her courage took him by surprise. “If you’re able to, you should probably go home. The authorities will cart you off to jail if they catch you out here.”

  
She lifted her shoulders. “I have nowhere else to go, so I honestly wouldn’t mind it.” 

  
The shelter wouldn’t let her back in, not after the curfew, and if Doctor Lambert saw the scratches on her arms, he’d think that she injured herself and put her in a straight jacket. There was nothing she could do; a tired laugh escaped her. Maybe it would be easier for her to just let them lock her up.

  
“Devils truly are evil,” she mumbled.

  
Dante silently agreed. He didn’t quite understand what she was doing outside after dark, but he honestly thought that maybe she was a stripper. She looked like one – though her clothes were a bit modest; the cold maybe.

  
“You work at Love Planet? I haven’t seen you around before.”

  
Clara puckered a brow. Love Planet? What kind of place was that? She shook her head in disagreement. “I don’t … currently have a job, and I don’t currently have a stable home.”

  
“Aah! Homeless,” he made clear. That would explain the worn-down clothes. Dante frowned a moment. As much as he didn’t want to trouble himself with her, he couldn’t just leave her alone. He had an idea, but she might not like it. “I think I might know a place you can stay for the night.”

  
A faint smile pulled at her lips. Strange how she wasn’t scared of this shady man, despite having a gun in her face just moments ago. She wasn’t sure, but thought the large thing fixed to his back may be a sword.

  
It was, Clara soon found out as she again used his arm to keep off her injured ankle. The less she knew, the better off she was. He saved her life; that seemed more important than why he was armed with weapons in the middle of the night.

  
Dante – she heard the devil call him – led her out of the alley and onto the main road; a street named 66 Slum Avenue. She was right, for the most part, the residential area was nearby. Like everywhere else, the street was empty. It was a miracle Dante found her; she owed him so much. He stayed quiet for the most part as he pulled her up onto the sidewalk and led her along the road. 

  
Clara wanted to ask him where he was taking her, but didn’t, as a large neon sign caught her attention. Love Planet. This was the same name that Dante mentioned earlier. Was it some kind of hotel? Or maybe a club?

  
He led her to the front door and opened it, ushering her in. The walls were mostly bare; a few framed pictures and posters of scantly clad women were hung about. Clara eyed them in uncertainty. This place was no hotel, she concluded. It was a strip club.

  
“I don’t think I can stay here,” she uttered.

  
Dante offered her a smile. “It’s in safe hands if that’s what you’re worried about. An old liaison of mine owns it, and he owes me for saving his ass a few times in the past.”

  
“And you trust him?”

  
He laughed. “About as far as I can throw him. He’s a sleezy creep, but he’ll set ya up for the night.”

  
“That certainly doesn’t make me feel any better,” Clara grunted. She rolled her eyes as Dante laughed again.

  
Stumbling into the main hall, Clara noticed a short man wearing an expensive tailored suit, chatting with a girl dressed up in a scanty bunny costume. She glanced up at Dante, but he paid her no mind, calling out to the man.

  
“Enzo! Long time no see! How is the arm?”

  
The man – Enzo – turned in horror. Clara saw that one arm was missing. His suit sleeve was rolled up to the shoulder. She nudged Dante for pointing out such an uneasy thing. 

  
“Go home, Dante. We’re closed for the night. I don’t really want you here during the day either,” he said with a snap.

  
Dante laughed. “Is that any way to treat the guy who brought you a peace offering?” He grunted as Clara nudged his ribs again.

  
“By all means,” Enzo snorted. “She gonna bite my dick clean off? Or smother me in the night?”

  
Said woman curled up her nose in disgust. “I’d never put your junk in my mouth, but I may smother you if you keep it up.” She felt Dante laugh and shot him a heated look. “That goes for you too. I don’t care if you saved me or not.”

  
“She’s real gutsy, Dante. And cute too.” The bunny woman gave her a wink and moved a bit closer. Her painted eyes moved down her fragile body. “Oh dear. You look chilled to the bone. Come with me, and I will get you some warm clothes to wear. Maybe run ya a warm bath too.”

  
This sounded nice. Clara could use a bath. She gave Dante a keen look and he nodded, allowing the bunny woman to take his place at her side.

  
“Dante will take care of ya. Let’s just worry about you for now,” she assured her, escorting Clara to the best of her ability towards the bathroom.

  
Clara agreed, but once she was done – clothed and bandaged up – Dante was already gone. She met with Enzo at the bar as he had a drink.

  
“I didn’t get to say thank you,” she mentioned with a frown.

  
Enzo smiled. “It’s no problem. Dante and I like to help.”

  
“What kind of person is Dante? He seems … secretive.”

  
He set down his glass and placed his hand over the stump attached to his shoulder. “He’s not the kind of guy ya want to be around long. Trust me; hope ya never have to see him again.”

  
Clara wondered if Enzo was trying to warn her. She couldn’t stop the nagging feeling in her heart that she’d see Dante again. In a way, she hoped so. He deserved a proper thank you for saving her life.

  
Saying goodnight, Clara returned to the spare room on the second floor and went to bed. 


	3. Treacherous Sunset

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n: This chapter is short, but regardless enjoy.

“You sure about that honey? Enzo is a real sleaze, but he won’t mind ya stayin’ another night or two. It’s near lunchtime, and your injuries must hurt; that pervert did a number on you,” Bernice stated with concern.

Clara frown; she was too good a person. This is why she was reluctant to lie to her, but she had too. Monsters were not supposed to exist. She didn’t want to imagine the look on her face; the mockery in her voice if ever Clara told her. It sickened her to lie. Bernice had already done so much; no stranger had ever showed her the amount of kindness the dancer had, and she had a point, Clara was hurt.

She had to return though.

It was late when she woke up; Bernice let her sleep in. This rattled her a bit. The owners of the shelter most likely didn’t know she was gone, but she had missed a call from Doctor Lambert this morning. He would most likely freak out; his interest in her case was absurd, but Clara had no say-so in the matter. She hoped he would understand why she left.

“I really appreciate what you’ve done for me. Dante bringing me here was nice, but I have to leave.”

Another reason she admired Bernice was because she never asked questions. The dancer merely pouted and yanked her into a gentle hug.

“Come back and see me sometime, honey. My door is always open.”

Clara teared up. “I hope I can.”

What awaited her when she returned? She wasn’t sure; it wasn’t good though. When she parted from Bernice; from the warm embrace that seemed almost safe, Clara leaned back and nervously scratched her injured shoulder. The claw marks itched something terrible, but at least she was a quick healer.

“Can you do me a favor? If Dante comes around … tell him I said thank you for me.”

Bernice smiled. “Of course. Dante will appreciate that. And you be safe on your way back.”

Clara said her farewells; she didn’t see Enzo on the way out, but she passed on a note for him, again thanking him, and quickly left before her heart changed its mind.

Her leisurely pace back was serene; no devils to pursue her beneath the saturated sunset. Nocturnal creatures rarely came out during the day. It was nice. She made it to the shelter an hour later, entering her room to see a familiar man on her bunk.

“Doctor Lambert. I wasn’t expecting you.”

Said man stood and greeted her. “Where have you been, Clara? The shelter called me when you didn’t come home last night.”

“I missed lockdown,” she admitted. “And once I woke I ca––

He rested a hand on her wounded arm. His gesture seemed innocent, but his iron hold was malicious. Clara winced and backed away.

“You never listen; such a shame.”

The door came open and two guards wearing washed-out uniforms came in; they were unusually large. Both took her arms and yanked them behind her as the doctor pulled her collar aside. He puckered a brow and breathed in her scent; she was repulsed.

“This is a serious issue; he’s made contact.”

Who? Before she questioned the doctor, she was forced back and pushed down the hall.

“Stop this. I did nothing wrong,” Clara begged.

She heard Doctor Lambert grunt. “The wounds on your shoulder indicates otherwise.”

“I didn’t do this. I swear it wasn’t me.”

He snorted. “Who then? Devils, Clara? Your delusions have gone on long enough. Maybe sometime in Hope will settle you down.”

The sanatorium? Images of her mother flashed before her eyes, dressed in white and fastened to a mattress. It was the same place; the same Hope Valley Hospital her mother suffered and died in. Clara thrashed against the guards, but to no avail. She was ushered to an unmarked van in the parking lot, and injected with a sedative.

Before she passed out, she remembered thinking that night or day, monsters roamed about; some just took on human form.


End file.
